


Letters

by yikesola



Series: tumblr ficlet prompts [62]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2015 - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22683196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesola/pseuds/yikesola
Summary: Phoebe sits with a blank sheet of paper in front of her and wonders how long it’s been since she wrote a physical, paper, actual letter. Then she starts writing.A fic about technology and missing.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: tumblr ficlet prompts [62]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1410112
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	Letters

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Letters

There’s a Florida summer storm happening. The great delight Phoebe has in watching it from the porch of the house her family is staying in this holiday is dampened by the fact the storm has knocked the power out. 

She sends Dani a text telling her, before her phone promptly dies. She really hopes the text actually went through. Their nightly Skype sessions are both necessity and tradition on the rare occasions when they’re forced to be apart. It is, of course, possible that the electricity will come back in time— it’s only noon her time and they usually Skype around 10pm in London— but she’s not going to hold her breath. The wind and rain is still going like mad. 

Her family is roped into playing more scrabble than they might’ve agreed to if they could escape out of the house or at least offer to watch a movie as a compromise, but even that can only last so long. 

Soon Phoebe is sitting in her temporary bedroom ostensibly trying to manage a nap, but her mind keeps wandering 7,000km back home where surely Dani is still in her pyjamas, hair wild, glued to _Guild Wars_ or a solo marathon of all three extended editions _Lord of the Rings_. She wants to be able to text her, just to know for sure. And the fact that she can’t makes her feel a little millennial guilt— should she really be so freaking attached to her phone?— but also just the old ache of being far from home. 

She loves Florida, loves her family, but sometimes Phoebe is struck with a wave of homesickness that can’t be combatted. 

She pokes around the room she’s hardly spent any time in. The dresser drawers are empty, there isn’t even a Bible like there is in all the American hotels Phoebe has ever stayed in. The three Russian nesting dolls on the window sill are all full sets; she checks to be sure. The desk has loose-leaf paper, pens galore, and even some envelopes and an old book of forever stamps. 

Phoebe sits with a blank sheet of paper in front of her and wonders how long it’s been since she wrote a physical, paper, actual letter. Then she starts writing.

_Dani Girl, Sweet Lady, My Dearest Darlingest—  
Was that a sappy enough beginning? I feel like letter writing is inherently sappy… at least in these days with our advanced technology, putting pen to paper is practically screaming “God I want you in some chaste Victorian way” from the rooftops. I’m doing it anyway, I guess. I don’t actually know how long it takes a letter to get to London from here. I’ll google a post office in the morning, or whenever we have power again. Maybe someone there will know.  
Maybe I’ll get home first. Maybe we’ll open this letter together :)  
I hope you’re good. I hope you’re getting out of the flat, to a coffee shop or with Bry or something. I know you aren’t actually in a blanket burrito the whole time whenever I’m all the way in America, but I know you’re at least tempted to be and that’s enough for me to urge you right now to not ubereats it, but actually WALK down to the coffee shop!  
There, obligatory girlfriend nagging done with.  
Now this letter can be fully romantic. Or, maybe, Romantic. The weather… it is like my soul. Your smile… it is like the sun. I cannot see the sun, for all the clouds. I cannot see your smile for all the ocean.  
Huh, maybe I did earn a degree. That’s enough of that.  
My hand is cramping. Is this what happens when you only ever type? Half a page makes your hand cramp?  
I miss you. I love you. I can’t think of what else to write. I guess this is the end of my letter.  
See you soon,  
Phoebe ♡_

She knows her handwriting is atrocious. But it’s legible. It’s something. She gives the letter a spritz of her body spray, just to be as extra as possible, and seals it in the envelope.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading— come say hi on [tumblr](https://yikesola.tumblr.com/post/190793870134/letters) !


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